No Lightning Tonight
by Duckflesh
Summary: Something is coming to Redwall...


No Lightning Tonight

By Duckflesh

(This is a fanwork, and is in no way affiliated with the Redwall series. All characters and trademarks are used here without permission.)

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The night has reached its blackest point. The two mice, having been patrolling the battlements of Redwall Abbey for hours now, exchange a friendly word as they pass each other for the umpteenth time that night.

"Damn, looks like we're going to get rained on."

"Just our luck, eh? Maybe that cute little squirrel maid will bring us some soup to warm us up."

The older of the two mice chuckles mildly at this as he continues on his march around the ancient, sturdy wall. He sighs softly. This kind of guard duty wouldn't be necessary, but there was some kind of threat out there in the woods that had been harassing beasts on the main road. To think, though, that he could be asleep in his big, comfy bed, his wife by his side. His bones are beginning to ache; he was getting far too old for this. Snoozing in bed, that was more up his alley. He smirks softly at this though, and looks up to see that he and the younger guard are about to cross paths again. They never quite make it, the two suddenly snapping their heads up to the woods as an earsplitting tearing sound rips through the air. A broken tree slams down within a few yards of the Abbey, adding a terrible crash to the pitter patter of the rain that has just begun to come down. The mouse's eyes rise to the tree's former resting place, and his mouth widens in hoar. He can't see the guard next to him, but he hears a loud thud indicating that the poor fellow has fainted. So he's alone. Snapping up his bow and stretching back an arrow on the string, he aims for the thing's neck. He lets it go. The arrow flies straight and true, just like his arrows always have, yet his heart sinks as he sees it sink into the beast's leather-like flesh, failing to penetrate any further. It would also seem the thing has come closer to the wall, because a giant clawed hand is flashing towards him. His last thought is of his wife, and the pain lasts only seconds before his life fades from existence.

The young vole maid in the kitchen winces slightly at the sound of a tree falling in the woods, no doubt very close to the Abbey. Funny, she thinks as she pulls a tray of hot scones from the oven. She hadn't heard any lightning. Placing the scones on the counter, she walks over to the kitchen's single tiny window, wipes off the fog that has obscured it, and looks out, wondering if she'll be able to catch the next lightning bolt lighting up the air. Yet, though it's started to rain quite heavily, she sees no lightning, even though now she can hear a loud, constant banging. Something catches her eye. The gate is shaking. The Abbey's big, wooden gate was shaking, as though there was an entire ship's crew of rats on the other side with a battering ram. But how could that be? The sentries would have called out…

An elderly squirrel in the gatehouse looks up from a dusty old parchment. The gate was groaning in its mounts…was the rain coming down that hard? As he stands to go see what's going on, the gate splinters, and the squirrel's knees buckle from sheer terror as the huge, black beast rampages through the broken remains. He drops to the ground, gasping for breath. Realizing his spectacles have been thrown across the floor, he gropes blindly for them on his hands and knees. His fingers finally close around them, and he begins scrambling to put them on. He never does. The thing slams its arm down on gatehouse and the roof collapses in on him, crushing his frail body easily.

The Abbess, a middle-aged mouse with a kind heart, sets down her book, frowning slightly. She has an awful feeling, and a terrible sound of splintering wood had just emanated through the air. It occurs to her suddenly that a tree in the orchard might have been struck by lightning, and could have fallen on the gatehouse. Jumping to her feet with a surprising show of speed, she is out of her tiny room in an instant. She darts down the hall, bolts down the stairs, and finally makes it to the door that leads out of the main building into the courtyard. She throws it open.

Having just reached the main building, the Alligator Snapping Turtle favors the little mouse with his own version of a smile as he leans in, beak opening. Mice were his favorite.


End file.
